


everything's under control (tell me what you want) (let me tell you I want it too)

by notcaycepollard



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Aftercare is important, BDSM, Control, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Light BDSM, Nipple Play, Skye calls Coulson sir, Vaginal Fingering, idk apparently I have a thing for suits, safewords are important, that's the rules, you have to ask for what you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/pseuds/notcaycepollard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Established relationship. Skye and Coulson take a break at the Retreat and test out Skye's self control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything's under control (tell me what you want) (let me tell you I want it too)

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much just entirely some unabashed bdsm-y sex. That is all. Okay cool.

"Are you  _sure_ about this," Coulson says, brushing his fingers down her cheek. Skye rolls her eyes.

" _Yes_ , I'm sure, Coulson, jeez, it's not like we've been talking about this for  _weeks_ , or anything," she replies, and he leans in for a kiss.

"I'm just checking, okay. I don't... you know I don't want to hurt you?"

"You don't have to hurt me," she says patiently. "It's not _about_ that."

"Oh, I know," he smirks, and it makes something curl hot and tight in her. She shivers, bites her lip.

"And I don't want you to hurt yourself, either," he adds, and she rolls her eyes again.

"I  _won't_ , it's okay. Let the vibrations flow through me, don't turn them inwards, I've got it  _down_ , Phil."

"Okay, okay," he laughs. "Safeword?"

"Safeword," she confirms, and it's his turn to roll his eyes.

"Oh my god, have a little imagination," he teases, bites at the side of her neck, and she gasps involuntarily.

"It's  _expedient_ , okay, god, are we going to do this or not?"

And then he's sliding her robe off, pushing her down on the bed. "Lie down," he tells her, a growl in his voice that wasn't there a moment ago, and she shivers, settles back, stretching out in front of him.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed, his suit immaculate, and takes her by the wrists, not hard but firm. She feels her muscles go loose, her mind empty of distractions, in a way that she can't explain or quantify. He lifts her arms above her head, waits for her to wrap her fingers around the wooden bar of the headboard.

"Good girl," he says, releases her wrists. "Keep your hands there. Don't let go."

"No ties?" she asks, and his eyes darken.

"Oh no," he replies lightly. "This isn't about you not being  _able_ to get free, Skye. This is about your control. If you let go, I'll stop. So don't let go." 

"Fucking  _hell,_ " she hisses, tightens her grip on the headboard. He smiles, rubs his thumb across her bottom lip, lets her suck it into her mouth and nip lightly with her teeth. She can see in his eyes that it's turning him on, which,  _good_ , because she feels like she's never been so turned on in her life, and they've only just started.

He pulls his hand back and stands up, looking down at her. Loosens his tie, takes a deep breath, and says, "spread your legs apart." She obeys immediately, still lying flat on the bed, and he smirks. "Wider," he demands, and she feels the stretch in her hips. He slowly, deliberately, takes his jacket off, watching her the whole time. She shifts, arches her back a little, trying to encourage him to  _hurry the fuck up_ and start touching her, and his smirk gets bigger.

"You know," he says, hanging his jacket up with exquisite care, "I was thinking about your powers, recently."

"Oh yeah?" she replies breathlessly, trying and failing not to lick her lips when he slides off his tie, gently pulls out the knot, hangs it up with the jacket, and undoes his top button.

"Mmm," he agrees blandly, and unbuttons the cuff of his vibranium hand, rolls the cuff up neatly. "We know vibranium dampens your ability to sense vibrations. I was wondering whether there was anything that would  _enhance_ it."

" _Coulson_ ," she gets out, her voice husky, and he raises an eyebrow.

"I talked to Fitz about it," he continues, unbuttoning and rolling his other cuff, sliding his hands into his pockets and watching her reaction. "He was able to create a couple of micro-electrode pads. He recommended trying them on your fingertips. Thought that might be useful." Skye squirms again, bites her lip. "I think we can try them somewhere else, right?"

" _Fuck_ ,  _Coulson_ ," is all she can reply. She can feel her pulse starting to increase, her breathing loud.

"That wasn't a yes, Skye," he says, warningly. "You know how this works. You have to  _ask_ for what you want."

" _Please_ ," she gets out. "Please- anywhere, _yes_ , Coulson,  _please_." He smiles, pleased, and pulls out two tiny electrodes the size of her little fingernail. 

"I'm going to try these  _here_ ," he says casually, places one on her nipple, and she moans low in the back of her throat. "Good?"

" _So fucking good_ ," she agrees fervently, and when he laughs his breath gusts across her chest, creates even  _more_ vibrations. He flicks her other nipple lightly, pinches it gently and then harder and then settles the electrode on the tip. She moans again, louder, clenches her hands around the headboard, and his smile gets bigger.

"Look at you," he says hotly, settling back to sit near her, not touching her at all. It's  _extremely unfair._ "I could just sit here and watch you like this, for hours. How long before you're begging me to touch you, hmmm?" Skye whines, desperately. She feels like her skin's on fire, she's so sensitive. It's fucking  _incredible._ Coulson slides vibranium fingertips down her ribs, over one hipbone, lightly down her thigh, and blows air across her nipples. She cannot  _believe_ how wet she must be, right now, how aroused she is. It's almost painful.

Coulson gets up, and she whines again at that, but he's only moving so he can sit at the foot of the bed, between her legs. He trails his fingers - his real fingers, she thinks, they're warm and real and _vibrating -_  over her hipbones, dips down into her inner thigh, back up until he's almost, not quite, brushing her pussy.

"Oh  _god_ ," she gets out, arches up towards his hand, and he pushes her hips back down, hard.

"New rule," he says, and  _fuck_ how is his voice still so even, she thinks. "Keep your hips on the bed. You  _know_ the way this goes, Skye, I want to hear you ask."

Her breathing's uneven, ragged. "Touch me," she gasps, "please, Phil, please, I want your fingers on my clit."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he says, and lightly (too lightly, too teasingly) drags one finger down over her clit, dipping into her wetness, and back up. She makes a noise, loud and desperate, and he strokes her again, rubbing light circles around her clit. She thinks she might die, from how sensitive she is - her nipples can feel every shift in the air, every tiny vibration from Coulson breathing or moving or  _fuck_ , his  _heartbeat_ \- and his fingers keep circling around, never quite grazing her clit hard enough.

"Fuck me," she gives in and begs, "please,  _Coulson_ , please, with your fingers or your cock or just,  _please_ , I want you inside me  _so bad_." _  
_

"Hmmm," Coulson replies, watching her intently, still making those tiny, frustrating circles around her clit, "not good enough, beg harder."

" _Sir_ ," she chokes out, and that gets a reaction from him, his pupils dilating wide. He suddenly looks just as wrecked as she does, under his starched shirt and iron self-control. Skye can't help smirking, which is apparently totally the wrong thing to do, because he  _stops touching her._

" _Please_ , sir," she begs again, and he pushes two fingers hard into her, rubs his thumb against her clit. She pretty much wails, and the windows start to rattle. He stills his fingers.

" _Skye_ ," he says warningly, and she takes a deep breath, lets the vibration flow through her. 

"I'm good, I'm good, just - _fuck-_ just keep going,  _please_ ," she gasps, and Coulson pushes in a third finger, crooks them to hit her g-spot. He fucks her hard, watching her reactions and moans and gasps until she's struggling with everything she has not to shift her hips, and then he presses his thumb over her clit again, sends her screaming through one orgasm straight into a second that hits like a freight train without warning, not stopping until her legs start shaking uncontrollably. She's clinging to the headboard so hard she thinks she might have left permanent finger marks.

"Fuuuuuuuuck," she gets out, still trying to catch her breath, and he strokes her thighs in long, gentle sweeps until the muscles relax. Then he stands up, moves back to sit next to her, and carefully takes the electrodes off her breasts, making her gasp at the touch.

"Alright?" he asks softly, and reaches for her wrists, unwraps her fingers from where they're gripped. She's suddenly aware of the cramp in her shoulders and fingertips, but Coulson is gathering her into his lap, pressing kisses to her wrists, her hair, her forehead, and the tension is already dissipating. 

She nestles into his shirt, feeling boneless, just a puddle of nerve endings, and sighs in contentment as he strokes her hair. "That was  _really fucking great_ ," she says, at length, and he laughs.

"Yeah?"

" _Yes_ ," she reiterates, emphatically. "Are you... do you want..."

"Mmm," he says thoughtfully. "In a bit. Aftercare is very important, though."

"Ugh," she teases, "you've done  _all your research_ , haven't you."

"Yes," he agrees simply, leaning down to kiss her. "You know I go into things prepared," and he's not  _wrong_ , Skye thinks, he does do his preparation for everything, and in this case, it's worked out pretty fucking well. She thinks she's pretty lucky, actually.

 


End file.
